If, haply, you my father do suspect,
An instrument of this your calling back,

Lay not your blame on me; if you have lost him, Why, I have lost him too.

Oth. Had it pleas'd heaven

To try me with affliction; had he rain'd

Des. I have none: Do not talk to me, Emilia;

Yet could I bear that too; well, very well:
But there, where I have garner'd up my heart;
Where either I must live, or bear no life;
The fountain, from the which my current runs,
Or else dries up; to be discarded thence!
Or keep it as a cistern, for foul toads [there!
To knot and gender in!-turn thy complexion
Patience, thou young and rose-lipp'd cherubin;
Ay, there, look grim as hell!

Des. I hope, my noble lord esteems me honest. Oth. O, ay; as summer flies are in the shambles, That quicken even with blowing. O thou weed, Who art so lovely fair, and smell'st so sweet, That the sense aches at thee.-'Would, thou hadst ne'er been born!

Des. Alas, what ignorant sin have I com-
mitted?
[book,
Oth. Was this fair paper, this most goodly
Made to write whore upon? What committed!
Committed!-0 thou public commoner!
I should make very forges of my cheeks,
That would to cinders burn up modesty,
Did I but speak thy deeds.-What committed!
Heaven stops the nose at it, and the moon winks;
The bawdy wind, that kisses all it meets,
Is hush'd within the hollow mine of earth,
And will not hear it: What committed!-
Impudent strumpet!

Des. By heaven, you do me wrong.
Oth. Are not you a strumpet?
Des. No, as I am a Christian:
If, to preserve this vessel for my lord,
From any other foul unlawful touch,
Be-not to be a strumpet, I am none.

Oth. What, not a whore?
Des. No, as I shall be saved.
Oth. Is it possible?

Des. O, heaven forgive us!
Oth. I cry you mercy, then;

I took you for that cunning, whore of Venice,
That married with Othello.-You, mistress,
Re-enter Emilia.

That have the office opposite to saint Peter,
And keep the gate of hell; you! you! ay, you!
We have done our course; there's money for your
pains;

I pray you, turn the key, and keep our counsel.
Lexit.
Emil. Alas, what does this gentleman con-
ceive?-

[exit.

drink,

Could not have laid such terms upon his callet. Iago. Why did he so?

Des. I do not know; I am sure, I am none such. Iago. Do not weep, do not weep: Alas, the day! Emil. Has she forsook so many noble matches, Her father, and her country, and her friends, To be call'd-whore? would it not make one Des. It is my wretched fortune. [weep? Iago. Beshrew him for it! How comes this trick upon him? Des. Nay, heaven doth know.

Emil. I will be hang'd, if some eternal villain, Some busy and insinuating rogue,

Some cogging cozening slave, to get some office,
Have not devis'd this slander; I'll be hang'd else.
Iago. Fie, there is no such man; it is impossible.
Des. If any such there be, heaven pardon him!
Emil. A halter pardon him! and hell gnaw his
bones!
[company?
Why should he call her whore? who keeps her
What place? what time? what form? what

Emil. O, fie upon hira! some such squire he That turn'd your wit the seamy side without, And made you to suspect me with the Moor. Iago. You are a fool; go to. Des. O, good Iago,

14

I know not how I lost him. Here I kneel:If e'er my will did trespass 'gainst his love, Either in discourse of thought, or actual deed; Or that mine eyes, mine ears, or any sense, Delighted them in any other form;

Or that I do not yet, and ever did,

And ever will,-though he do shake me off
To beggarly divorcement,-love him dearly,
Comfort forswear me! Unkindness may do much;
And his unkindness may defeat my life,

But never taint my love. I cannot say, whore;
It does abhor me, now I speak the word:
To do the act that might the addition earn,
Not the world's mass of vanity could make me.
Iago. I pray you be content; 'tis but his
humour;

The business of the state does him offence,
And he does chide with you.

Des. If 'twere no other,

[trumpets.

Iago. It is but so, I warrant you. Hark, how these instruments summon to supper! And the great messengers of Venice stay: Go in, and weep not; all things shall be well. [exeunt Des. & Emil. Enter Roderigo.

How now, Roderigo! Rod. I do not find, that thou deal'st justly with Iago. What in the contrary? [me. Rod. Every day thou doff'st me with some device, Iago; and rather (as it seems to me now,) keep'st me from all conveniency, than suppliest me with the least advantage of hope. I will, indeed, no longer endure it: Nor am I yet persuaded, to put up in peace what already I have foolishly suffered.

Iago. Will you hear me, Roderigo?

Rod. 'Faith, I have heard too much; for your words and performances are no kin together. Iago. You charge me most unjustly. Rod. With nought but truth. I have wasted myself out of my means. The jewels you have had from me, to deliver to Desdemona, 'would half have corrupted a votarist: You have told me-she has received them, and returned me expectations and comforts of sudden respect and acquittance; but I find none.

Iago. Well; go to; very well.

Rod. Very well! go to! I cannot go to, man; nor 'tis not very well: By this hand, I say, it is very scurvy; and begin to find myself fobbed in it. Iago. Very well.

Rod. I tell you, 'tis not very well. I will make myself known to Desdemona: If she will return me my jewels, I will give over my suit, and repent my unlawful solicitation; if not, assure yourself, I will seek satisfaction of you. Iago. You have said now.

Rod. Ay, and I have said nothing, but what I protest intendment of doing.

Iago. Why, now I see there's mettle in thee; and even, from this instant, do build on thee a better opinion than ever before. Give me thy hand, Roderigo: Thou hast taken against me a most just exception; but yet, I protest, I have dealt most directly in thy affair.

Rod. It hath not appeared.

Iago. I grant, indeed, it hath not appeared; and your suspicion is not without wit and judg ment. But, Roderigo, if thou hast that within thee indeed, which I have greater reason to believe now than ever,-I mean, purpose, courage, and valour, this night show it if thou the next night following enjoyest not Desdemona, take me from this world with treachery, and devise engines for my life.

Rod. Well, what is it? is it within reason and compass?

Iago. Sir, there is especial commission come from Venice, to depute Cassio in Othello's place. Rod. Is that true? why, then Othello and Desdemona return again to Venice.

"Iago. O, no; he goes into Mauritania, and takes away with him the fair Desdemona, unless his abode be lingered, here by some accident; wherein none can be so determinate, as the reinoving of Cassio.

Rod. How do you mean-removing of him? Iago. Why, by making him incapable of Othello's place; knocking out his brains. Rod. And that you would have me do? Iago. Ay, if you dare do yourself a profit, and a right. He sups to-night with a harlot, and thither will I go to him; he knows not yet of his honourable fortune: if you will watch his going thence (which I shall fashion to fall out between twelve and one), you may take him at your pleasure; I will be near to second your attempt, and he shall fall between us. Come, stand not amazed at it, but go along with me; I will shew you such a necessity in his death, that you shall think yourself bound to put it on him. is now high supper-time, and the night grows to waste: about it.

Rod. I will hear further reason for this.
Iago. And you shall, be satisfied.

It

[exeunt.

Des. So would not I; my love doth so approve him,

That even his stubbornness, his checks, and frowns,

Pr'ythee unpin me,-have grace and favour in them.

Emil. I have laid those sheets you bade me on

the bed.

Des. All's one:- -Good father! how foolish are our minds!If I do die before thee, pr'ythee, shroud me In one of those same sheets.

Emil. Come, come, you talk.

Des. My mother had a maid, called-Barbara; She was in love; and he, she lov'd, prov'd mad, And did forsake her: she had a song of-willow, An old thing 'twas, but it express'd her fortune, And she died singing it: That song, to-night, Will not go from my mind; I have much to do, But to go hang my head all at one side, And sing it like poor Barbara. Pr'ythee, despatch.

Emil. Shall I go fetch your night-gown?

Des. No, unpin me here.—

This Lodovico is a proper man.

Emil. A very handsome man.

Des. And he speaks well.

Emil. I know a lady in Venice, who would have walked bare-foot to Palestine, for a touch of his nether lip.

Des. The poor soul sat sighing by a sycamore tree,
Sing all a green willow;

[singing.

Her hand on her bosom, her head on her knee,
Sing willow, willow, willow:

The fresh streams ran by her, and murmur'd her
Sing willow, &c.
[moans;

Her salt tears fell from her, and soften'd the stones;

Lay by these:

Sing willow, willow, willow;

Pr'ythee, hic thee; he'll come anon.

Sing all a green willow must be my garland. Let nobody blame him, his scorn I approve. Nay, that's not next.-Hark! who is it that Emil. It is the wind. [knocks? Des. 1 call'd my love, false love; but what said he then? Sing willow, &c.

If I court mo women, you'll couch with mo men. So, get thee gone; good night. Mine eyes do Doth that bode weeping?

Emil. 'Tis neither here nor there.

[itch;

Des. I have heard it said so.-O, these men, these men!

Dost thou in conscience think,-tell me, Emilia, That there be women do abuse their husbands In such gross kind.

Emil. There be some such, no question.

SCENE 1. A STREET.

Des. Good troth, I think thou would'st not. Emil. By my troth, I think I should; and undo't, when I had done. Marry, I would not do such a thing for a joint-ring; nor for measures of lawn; nor for gowns, petticoats, nor caps, nor any petty exhibition: but, for the whole world,— Why, who would not make her husband, a cuckold, to make him a monarch? I should venture purgatory for't.

Des. Beshrew me, if I would do such a wrong

for the whole world.

Emil. Why, the wrong is but a wrong i'the world; and, having the world for your labour, 'tis a wrong in your own world, and you might quickly make it right.

Des. I do not think there is any such woman. Emil. Yes, a dozen; and as many

To the vantage, as would store the world they

play'd for.

But, I do think, it is their husbands' faults,
If wives do fall: Say, that they slack their duties,
And pour our treasures into foreign laps;
Or else break out in peevish jealousies,
Throwing restraint upon us; or, say, they strike
Or scant our former having in despite ;
[us,
Why, we have galls; and, though we have some

grace,

Yet we have some revenge. Let husbands know, Their wives have sense like them: they see, and smell,

And have their palates both for sweet and sour,
As husbands have. What is it that they do,
When they change us for others? Is it sport?
I think it is. And doth affection breed it?
I think, it doth. Is't frailty, that thus errs?
It is so too: And have not we affections?
Desires for sport? and frailty, as men have?
Then, let them use us well: else, let them know,
The ills we do, their ills instruct us to.

Des. Good night, good night: Heaven me such usage send,

Not to pick bad from bad; but, by bad, mend! [exeunt

Enter Iago and Roderigo. Iago. Here, stand behind this bulk; straight will he come :

Wear thy good rapier bare, and put it home;
Quick, quick; fear nothing; I'll be at thy elbow:
It makes us, or it mars us; think on that,
And fix most firm thy resolution.

Rod. Be near at hand; I may miscarry in't. Tago. Here, at thy hand; be bold, and take thy sword.

As gifts to Desdemona;

It must not be: if Cassio do remain,

He hath a daily beauty in his life,

That makes me ugly; and, besides, the Moor May unfold me to him: there stand I in much peril:

No, he must die:-But so, I hear him coming. Enter Cassio.

Rod. I know his gait, 'tis he :-Villain, thou diest.

Cas. That thrust had been mine enemy indeed, But that my coat is better than thou think'st; I will make proof of thine.

[draws, and wounds Rod.

Rod. O, I am slain! [Tago cuts Cas. in the leg; exit. Cas. I am maim'd for ever :- -Help, ho! murder! murder!

Enter Othello, at a distance.

[falls.

Oth. The voice of Cassio:-Iago keeps his
Rod. O, villain that I am!
Oth. Hark! 'tis even so.

[word.

Cas. O, help! ho! light! a surgeon! Oth. 'Tis he;-O brave Iago, honest, and just, That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong! Thou teachest me,-Minion, your dear lies dead, And your fate hies apace :— Strumpet, I come: Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes are blotted;

Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be spotted. [exit Othello. Enter Lodovico and Gratiano. Cas. What, ho! no watch? no passage? murder! murder!

Gra. 'Tis some mischance; the cry is very Cas. O, help! [direful.

Lod. Hark.

Rod. O wretched villain!

[night:

Lod. Two or three groans;-it is a heavy These may be counterfeits; let's think't unsafe To come into the cry, without more help.

Rod. Nobody comes; then shall I bleed to death.

Enter Iago, with a light.

Lod. Hark! [and weapons. Gra. Here comes one in his shirt, with light Iago. Who's there? whose noise is this, that cries on murder?

Lod. We do not know.

Jago. Did you not hear a cry?

Cas. Here, here; for heaven's sake, help me. Iage. What's the matter?

Gra. This is Othello's ancient, as I take it. Lod. The same, indeed; a very valiant fellow. Iago. What are you here, that cry so grievously? Cas. Iago! O, I am spoil'd, undone by villains! Give me some help. [done this?

Iago. O me, lieutenant! what villains have Cas. I think, that one of them is hereabout, And cannot make away.

layo. O treacherous villains!

What are you there? come in, and give some help. Rod. O, help me here! [to Lodovico and Grat. Cas. That's one of them.

Jago. Umurderous slave! O villain!

Iago. Gentlemen all, I do suspect this trash To be a party in this injury.

Patience awhile, good Cassio.-Come, come;
Lend me a light.-Know we this face, or no?
Alas! my friend, and my dear countryman,
Roderigo? no:- Yes, sure! O heaven! Roderigo.
Gra. What, of Venice?

Iago. Even he, sir; did you know him?
Gra. Know him? ay.

Iago. Signior Gratiano? I cry you gentle par

don;